


Burn

by StarTravel



Series: Defiance Through Tenderness [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, On the Defiant in early Season 6, POV Elim Garak, Pre-Slash, description of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Garak’s injury during a routine stop on the surface of a planet gives him far more hope for his own future than he could have anticipated, no matter how fleeting it might be.





	Burn

Garak stumbles back onto the Defiant, face perfectly congenial even as he feels the blood and skin oozing down his mangled arm. He feels a bit of shame; he doesn’t think he’d ever have been caught so off guard by a phaser when he was with the Obsidian Order. His skills really are getting quite rusty. No wonder the doctor isn’t impressed with him anymore.

 The doctor who catches his eyes as he marches into the room, and for one brilliant moment, professionalism is forgotten as Julian’s face contorts with dread. Then he’s by Garak’s side at an almost - or maybe actually - inhuman speed, grasping his good arm with a gentleness that belies the sharpness of his gaze. Garak doesn’t resist as Julian drags him to the medbay wordlessly, though he can’t help raising his eye ridges curiously when they finally get there. “Please sit down, I need to treat that right away.”

 It’s been over a year since Julian acted as though Garak’s life was worth as much to him as his own. He can’t decide if to be touched or disappointed to learn that isn’t the case. “Doctor, there are other patients-”

“Doctor’s orders,” Julian snaps without any real heat behind it, gaze gentle in a way Garak hasn’t seen turned him since that day in the holosuite. Garak raises an eyeridge, not moving as he stares up at Julian wordlessly, nothing in the air around them except the putrid smell of burning skin. Garak supposes Julian is used to it. Julian lets out a low exhale, a smile at the corner of his lips that doesn’t reach those sad eyes at all as he presses down on Garak’s good shoulder. “There are no other patients with more than a scraped knee and we both know it. Now you heard me, lie down.”

“Yesterday you barely took a second to heal my wounds,” Garak murmurs even as he finally lies down against the thin grey sickbed, somehow even more uncomfortable than the one on The Defiant. Julian shifts around him, covering his legs and lower chest with a a slightly itchy but thankfully heavy blanket. Garak can’t help raising an eyebrow even as Julian shows no emotion beyond the flickering of his gaze over Garak’s plasma burn. His _dear_ doctor might not be so far away after all.

“ _Yesterday_ you barely had a scratch and only came in here to deliberately rile me up.” Julian tuts as he starts running his tricorder across Garak’s right arm, brow furrowing as he takes in the results. Julian gives a quick nod, grabbing a few more tools from the table before his hands disappear from sight. “This may hurt a little.”

Julian’s voice is faint and regretful as he speaks, briefly looking up to meet Garak’s admittedly surprised gaze. Then he’s back to working on the burn, a stinging sensation spreading across his bicep and making his voice rasp in spite of himself. “Came just to annoy you? You think rather highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“A fatal flaw among us augments,” Julian sighs theatrically, placing his free hand over his heart as though wounded. Garak snorts, soft and more fond than he’d like to admit. Julian runs the same device over Garak’s bicep and down his forearm, the stinging fading to a low heat that’s mirrored in Julian’s warm smile as he frets over the thin new layer of skin. “Be careful with your arm, if you move it too much you could scrape more skin off.”

“How bad exactly is it, Doctor?” Garak swallows a bit as he closes his eyes, already fearing the worse if it’s made Julian forget to pretend they’re no longer friends, the fragile tension between them suddenly blooming into a familiar warmth Garak was sure he’d left behind. Julian makes a small, soothing noise in the back of his throat as he starts pressing a salve across the newly formed skin, taking care to be gentle around the scales caught in the plasma.  

“Nothing I can’t fix,” Julian assures him with a hint of smugness as he finally stops running his tools across Garak’s arm, setting them to the side as he examines his work with a focused gaze. Then Julian nods a bit, a wide grin blossoming across his face and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Julian brushes a hand over his stomach, pulling the blankets up a bit to cover his left arm. Julian looks up at him with a surprising amount of tenderness as he comes to stand over him, one hand skimming across his uninjured shoulder for a moment, as though by muscle memory. “You’ll be back on your feet again within a few hours.”

 Garak leans back on the blanket, flicking his gaze over Julian’s even more angular than usual frame, all sharp, brittle edges that make Garak suspect Julian probably needs these blankets almost as much as he does. Garak reaches a hand out, his own palm skating across Julian’s wrist in a way they both know is far more intentional. Garak closes his eyes and swallows a little, not wanting to face the likely rejection his honesty will bring. This new Julian can’t stay thawed for long. “Stay with me.”

 “Yes, of course.” Julian’s voice is strong and sweet at the same time, holding a conviction he shouldn’t have, since any numbers of disasters could pull him away from Garak at any moment. It sounds exactly like when Julian forgave Garak for sins he still doesn’t know.

 Garak can’t stop the small smile that comes over his face as Julian starts prattling on about some grand Trill novel, voice animated and then huffy when Garak shakes his head laboriously from where it rests against the pillow. Maybe it’s not too late to seek respite in this man’s arms after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you think it needs to be tagged with anything else!
> 
> Always open to prompts and thoughts.


End file.
